


Fresh Wounds

by transylvelvet



Series: Chasing Dark [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, But he's still a dick, Drunk Hux, Hurt/Comfort, Hux needs a hug, Kylo not being a dick, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, gays in space, tantrums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transylvelvet/pseuds/transylvelvet
Summary: "Clearly, Kylo was not the only one whose pride was wounded by the Resistance rebels that day." Wherein, roles are reversed and Kylo makes an important discovery about the Force.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theweddingofthefoxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweddingofthefoxes/gifts).



> I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart  
> I can see through the scars inside you  
> Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?
> 
> — [Ghost B.C., “Cirice”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-0Ao4t_fe0I)

At long last, Kylo Ren found himself able to leave the med-bay, injuries well enough sustained and burns cleaned and covered with thick bandaging. His face was a mess of gauze and tape and cloth, all wrapped over his right eye and most of his nose. It still hurt. A deep, deep hurt that made him think her lightsaber—rightfully _his_ —had melted the flesh of his face clear down to his skull. He could handle pain. He welcomed it, even. Pain was passion, passion was power, and as such, he could feel the Force strengthen within him, swelling from every pore and overflowing into the dark, vulnerable recesses of his brain.

 

He stalked a metallic corridor of the Finalizer, allowing the pure and unfiltered rage to seep from his shoulders into the pool of his stomach. There it boiled, red hot.

 

_That girl._

He offered to teach her—he offered to give her the most powerful gift in all the galaxies and she spat in his face. For that, she would die. But for now, he walked on.

 

The prospect of permanent disfigurement did not bother him in the least. After all, his grandfather was nearly and completely burned _alive_ before he became the most feared Sith Lord in the known universe. So too it seemed, to a lesser degree, would Kylo Ren. But first, he opted to scorch and genuinely massacre the walls and floor around him, the pleasant crackle of his red saber echoing sharply off of the surrounding metal.

 

He needed to train and to speak with Snoke, but above all, he desired to plot a formidable and well-deserved vengeance on the remaining Resistance rebels— _them_. The delicious thought of revenge brought General Hux to mind and he wondered briefly if Hux was currently concocting his own large-scale retaliation over the loss of the Starkiller base. Soon enough, he arrived at the General’s door.

 

He didn't bother to request entry, instead using the Force to unlock and slide the doors apart. He'd never set foot in Hux’s quarters before, he thought as he surveyed the room with his left eye. To his surprise, the suite, which looked like it was ordinarily kept in pristine order, was utterly trashed. Remnants of food, a table, chairs, a large desk, and even a mattress were thrown and overturned in a wild cacophony across the floor, shrouded in splinters and shards of glass that glittered under the bright recessed lights. Kylo took cautious steps into the space.

 

Hux himself was sitting on the metal floor against the door to the refresher. He gripped an empty glass in his hand. A near-empty bottle of expensive brandy sat beside him. Papers, maps, and a regulation data-pad surrounded him, haphazard, and he saw nothing as he looked through the glass windows into the vast depths of space.

 

Disorder. Not once in his years of knowing Hux had he seen the General with a hair out of place. Now, shirtless, shoeless, hair distressed from pulling, and evidently nursing a decent buzz, the General sat before him. Broken.

 

“Leave me,” he said. It sounded distant. Kylo watched him, taking a step closer. From Hux he expected something more theatrical— _To what do I owe the displeasure, Ren? Don't you have a tantrum to throw elsewhere?_ He continued his movements until he all but loomed over the General.

 

“ _Ren_ ,” Hux warned, but it came out strained; more tired than angry. Perhaps he had expended the bulk of his wrath on the room, Kylo thought.

 

_You're pathetic_ , he wanted to say to Hux, but he found he could not. He thought about Starkiller, about how much work, how many _years_ Hux had likely put into it. He thought about the day, only a few days ago, that he watched the weapon extinguish entire planets of Resistance scum, and how not even the Master of the Knights of Ren could deny their awe.

 

Hux’s life’s work was gone now. The sentiment hung heavy in the suite. The papers—blueprints and other crude drawings and lists and lists and more lists—indicated that Hux _was_ in fact planning something, though it was likely aborted in the face of his _own_ tantrum if the room’s condition was anything to go by. Clearly, Kylo was not the only one whose pride was wounded by the Resistance rebels that day. That thought made his stomach churn. He was loath to admit that although he desired to kill every last member of the Resistance for his own selfish reasons, he also wanted to kill them for Hux.

 

To Hux’s surprise, Kylo took a seat on the floor near him, clearing the clutter of paper around them with an uncharacteristically gentle use of the Force. He said nothing to Hux and Hux said nothing to him. So they sat, gazing at the stars and nebula that illuminated the darkness beyond the ship in oddly comfortable and companionable silence.

 

“I've been instructed to deliver you to Snoke at the earliest convenience,” Hux finally muttered. His voice was thick and bitter with chagrin; he made no effort to hide it. “We’ll depart as soon as repairs are finished.”

 

Kylo didn’t bother to disguise his stare and likely Hux didn't notice. Or perhaps he didn't care. Kylo noted the dusting of hair on his chest, pale and red like the hair on his head. His skin was white and flawless minus a few scars which surprised Kylo. He didn't take Hux as one for physical combat; he was beginning to realize just how little he knew about the General at all. Something inside of him wanted to change that.

 

“You can rebuild it.” He wasn't sure why he said it. He wasn't sure why seeing Hux undone like this bothered him so. In a way, Hux was one of the most consistent people he'd ever dealt with. He wasn't two-faced. He never operated under a façade. The cold, malefic authoritarian the First Order called General and Armitage Hux were the same entity; Kylo could depend on that. He could depend on their rivalry. Hux was nothing if not consistent and, in the face of all that had happened, it was a welcome comfort.

 

For the first time since the Knight’s unannounced arrival, Hux turned and looked at him. Those green eyes held fire. The dark circles beneath them screamed of exhaustion.  Something inside of Kylo softened.

 

"Why are you here?” It was more of a statement than a question. Hux was gripping his glass like a vice. Kylo shrugged.

 

“I wanted to hear your plan, General,” he said, watching Hux visually dissect the bandages on his face, furious. He vaguely remembered Hux finding him in the snow. He had seen what that girl did to Kylo, what she left of him.

 

“Do I look like I have a fucking plan?” Hux snarled and threw his glass at the window with more force than Kylo believed him capable of. It burst instantly, sending a fresh shower of glass falling in every direction. The violence of the room made it feel smaller around them.

 

"You always have a plan.”

 

Hux sighed. Tendrils of red hair framed his face which, now that Kylo looked closely, hosted a fine layer of stubble, almost too light to see.

 

“Squadrons we assumed to be dead have contacted the base. We await their arrival. That’s the plan, you imbecile.”

 

Kylo couldn't help it. The look on Hux’s face—that weak excuse of a sneer—made him smirk, partly hidden behind the gauze. Regardless, Hux shot him a bewildered look. He suddenly reached out to Kylo, to his face, hesitant, and perhaps more intoxicated than he let on.

 

“Does it?” _Hurt_ was unsaid but Kylo heard it anyway. Hux was projecting loudly in this state. His eyes were fixed on Kylo’s face but refused to settle on any particular spot. Kylo caught his wrist before he could touch the Knight’s face, supposedly to see the wound for himself again. If Hux was surprised by the contact, he didn't show it. His wrist was smooth. His hands looked smooth too.

 

“Have you slept since the attack?” Kylo asked, already knowing the answer. He would never admit it, but Hux’s ability to keep composure for this long—and under such dire circumstances—before losing control greatly impressed him.

 

Hux glared. Kylo still had his wrist.

 

“Not all of us can afford a holiday in the medical ward, Ren.”

 

“You will if you don't rest.”

 

Hux snatched his arm back, still glaring before making a fumbled gesture in search of the forgotten data-pad.

 

"If you please, I have work to do.” Hux motioned dismissively at him with an annoyed grunt, running fingers through his hair in a failed attempt to clear it from his face.

 

Kylo didn't respond. Instead, he reached over and laid a hand on Hux’s temple, clearly surprising him. Before Hux could utter a word, his eyes rolled and closed, and his body slumped forward. Kylo caught him easily with outstretched arms, refusing to acknowledge the part of his brain that delighted in how warm the General was against him. He lifted Hux’s body off the floor as he stood, carrying him to where the bed was supposed to be. With the Force, he returned the mattress to its original place upon the black bed frame, along with the bedding and pillows. Slower than may have been necessary, he carried Hux, noting how the shape of his jaw looked as his head dangled off of Kylo’s arm, and how he wasn't as much of a lightweight as he looked. Hux was lean but there was muscle there too.

 

He laid Hux on the middle of the bed, suddenly feeling cold. Hux looked much younger when he was asleep, Kylo decided, absently brushing red hairs away from the General’s closed eyes. He imagined pulling that red hair, grabbing it with a fist and yanking Hux’s head back—

 

Kylo silenced those thoughts immediately. A Knight of Ren, let alone a Sith Lord, would never waste thoughts on such things.

 

And yet.

 

He brushed his fingers against Hux’s hand, barely making contact, but it was more than enough to answer his previous query. Hux’s hands were, in fact, quite soft. His fingers were long and smooth and slender when they weren't wrapped in leather.

 

“I will kill them all,” he said out loud. He felt the Dark Side like never before, so inexplicably strong inside of him in that moment. The rage in his stomach was surging. It took his breath away.

 

"I will make them suffer.”

 

Hux didn't stir. Force-induced sleep was one like death.

 

"I promise."

 

He left in a fury, feeling manic. _Euphoric._

Kylo Ren had never felt more powerful in his entire life.

 

****

 

Approximately eighteen and a half hours later, Kylo’s own data-pad that he kept in his quarters began to flash red. He only received electronic intel from a select few aboard the Finalizer. He had a fairly good idea who this message was from.

 

"You unimaginably barbaric and impudent son of a bitch. Unless you would prefer to find the Supreme Leader on your own time and with your own coordinates, I suggest you keep your charred face and grotesque sorcery out of my private living quarters. Failure to comply will result in your immediate expulsion out of the nearest airlock gate.

 

At 21:00 you are to meet me in Commanding Room B to discuss offensive strategies for the resurrection of Starkiller and the imminent extermination of the Resistance.”

 

Alone in his room, Kylo Ren allowed himself to smile.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for my lovely friend theweddingofthefoxes who brings me hugs & snacks when I'm at work (ily). 
> 
> Also, this is my first ever Kylux fic! The word doc is literally titled "baby's first kylux fic." I wrote this on my phone as a means of procrastination between writing a 20 page and 60 page paper for school (I am deceased) so please excuse any hiccups I might have neglected. Anyway, I really hope you guys like it. If you leave a kudos or a comment I will openly weep and Eva will have to bring me more hugs & snacks, so please do the thing !!


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